


A Collar, A Cage, A Connection

by Mmysbathotw



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, But with lots of differences, Collars, Confinement, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's like Captive Prince, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mmysbathotw/pseuds/Mmysbathotw
Summary: Prompto goes through hell only to find himself in a gilded cage of his country’s most bitterest of enemies. Amongst lies and enemy secrets will he finally learn the answers he had been asking for his entire life?A alternate version of history where Prompto was never successfully smuggled out of Niflheim but instead, grew up in secret there.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	A Collar, A Cage, A Connection

Act. I - A Collar

  
Prompto awoke cold and aching, the same way he had for days, now turning into weeks. The fluid he's submerged in catching him off guard again. It feels so wrong being able to breath in it, but he has to. He forces himself to be okay about it. The alarm has been set off and soon he'll be put to sleep. He takes the opportunity to look at the pod across from him, at the other Prompto. The other him looks dead, paler, no sun marks or scars to speak of, shorter hair, but he guesses they were actually now the same on that front, and barely moving, the worst part. 

"Don't move." That militant voice had told him. "Don't speak." “Don't blink.” "Don't breathe." "Follow orders."

That one voice had repeated to him, caning his back, and wrists until he obeyed. Day to day life became less about finding out why this was happening to him, and more about surviving. But one day it was different with no warning he was shoved into this room, the one with the tubes and liquids and...bodies. His body specifically, repeated over and over. At first he couldn't comprehend it. His face, his wrists, his everything, floating, motionless, dead. The thought of dying in the same way all the others did, broke him, but in the end something pinched his neck and he was forced into all the same.

Turns out he didn't die.

But every time he woke up was the same. Panic, 

realization, ache, sleep. 

Sometimes he was peered at, by men in uniforms he didn’t recognize. He didn’t dare move. In this moment acting like those dead Prompto’s seemed to be the safest thing to do. Once his pod had been drained and opened. Petrified he stayed perfectly limp while the man in uniform had scanned his wrist. He strained to keep his eyes dead, his weight limp. Things that came more naturally to him than before, but still felt wrong.

The light at the end of the hallway turned on. A huge clang, and the pressure inside his tank shifted. It was new and it terrified him. All the tanks were draining.

A large shadow stretched in front of his tank. 

The Prompto in the other tank snapped to attention. He attempted to mimic him. The other one stepped out, he did too. It was a fucked up version of Simon Says. Getting worse by the second as he realized there were many heads in front of him, and many feet getting out behind him.    
  
He still felt groggy, he always felt groggy from whatever they pumped into him. So he was morbidly grateful to give into the new instinct that was beaten into him. His eyes began to glaze over his surroundings and his movements became stiffer. Even taking in the vague shapes he didn’t recognize anything, there were security of some sort everywhere, but he would have to wait for a moment when he was alone to really understand what was going on. 

All of them were taken inside a large building with non descript walls and armored guards everywhere. Then escorted into what Prompto assumed was a large storage closet. His captors shut the door on them and then he was alone in the dark.    
  
Terrified, Prompto waited until he was sure no one would come back, then he allowed himself to move. The other Prompto’s were deathly still. Faced forward with no breath or movement to give them away. Still Prompto felt compelled to reach out. What if he wasn’t the only one here who was scared.    
  
He turned to the body next to him and attempted to speak, his voice creaking from lack of use. A soft “Hhh...” that sounded deafening in the silent room. There was no recognition of noise. “Hey...” he whispered. Gingerly he reached out to touch the back of his wrist.    
  
The skin was cold and clammy, springy where he touched it. There was no reaction. Looking into its face there was no recognition of life. He pushed harder, still nothing. What the hell was going on? 

As silently as he could, he moved through the bodies, every slight touch sending goose bumps down his skin. Other than himself, there was no other movement in the room. The copies all standing silently in their lines. The door, that looked fairly standard, was locked, and on the other side no movement could be heard. He didn’t dare knock on it, this could potentially be one of the Empire’s work camps, and exposing himself would be a death sentence. 

The rest of the room was equally as telling. No vents big enough that he could use, no writing anywhere that he could read. All the while the copies stood obediently waiting for their next orders. With no indication of time Prompto tried to give his legs a rest. But when a pair of footsteps approached he realized there was no time to get back to where he was, he went back to where he was standing. Despite his legs starting to cramp. 

Prompto faded in and out of his awareness. The only indication of time passing being the cold stiffness creeping up his legs. Eventually the sound of boots alerted Prompto to more people coming. He did his best to assume the position.

Again they were filed out of the room, being taken to another location. They marched silently through the grand stone halls. Prompto did his best not to twitch trying to take in everything he was seeing. 

"Halt" the guard commanded.

A man in front handed him something and then the ginormous double doors began to open. 

It was a tall room, even with Prompto’s stiff neck assessment he could tell. It was dark too, black marble covering much of the floor and walls. There was a stage of sorts in front of him with a few people standing and a few sitting. It was hard to focus.

The guard at the front of the pack handed something to a seated figure.

He read from the note he was given, "Prince Noctis, please accept this gift in honor of our two countries blessed union. We are happy to present you 12 base Magitek infantry for your own personal use.

Signed, 

His imperial lordship,  Verstael Besithia on behalf of King  Iedolas Aldercapt "

The room was thick with silence. Prompto stilled his aching body to compliance. Bound and chained in the same room with the tyrant king of Insomnia and his son. Anything that would call attention to himself would be a death sentence. But, what did they mean Magitek, there were none of those soldiers here? He focused all of his will into staring at the neck in front of him. 

"How kind." Said a dry older voice.

"Shame Ardyn isn't here to present it himself." said a younger bored sounding male. 

"I imagine the investigation of defectors is more pressing to him." another pause, "What will you do with them?" the older voice said.

"Me?" he sounded almost surprised.

"They were gifted to you after all. A future king must learn how to properly handle foreign gifts, even if they come from rather tenuous allies."   
  
There was another pause.

"There's no way these are broadcasting any signals out, is there?" the prince asked. 

"No, your highness. Our NDK fields prohibit and radio or magitek signals from being sent." A third, more formal accented, voice said. 

"To think, this is what we've been fighting for all these years..." The king mused. Prompto's head felt light, we're they really saying what he thought they were?

"How many do you think we would need operational, in order to... I don't know convince the Empire that we actually wanted these stupid things." 

"Noctis." The older voice, King Regis, warned.

"I think four would suffice your majesty. Have them milling about during a party or event would be sufficient evidence that we are utilizing them as intended." the formal voice said.

"Fine, destroy six citing mechanical failures, two should be given to our engineering department, and four we can keep in storage. Are there any instructions for these things we need to know about?"

Prompto's pulse hammered in his ears. So all these things were Magitek. He was magitek? But magitek was... just mechanical right? That wasn’t him. But maybe... No one knew what he was. No one knows. They are going to treat him the same as all the rest of these copies. He was going to be killed, or dissected, or locked away to slowly starve in the dark. He needed to do something. He was going to die, he needed to do something he was going to die. He felt like someone had grabbed his spine and began to shake. His heart pounded in big booming thuds, constricting his whole chest, his breath coming in thin strips, his jaw chattered uncontrollably. 

"What is that?" the words cut through the air.

"Your Highness?"

"That noise." 

Prompto knew it was him. His body betraying him out of fear and exhaustion. He clenched his jaw and tried to breathe through his nose, but the shaking would not stop.

"It appears to be the third unit sir, a malfunction of some sort." A deafening chorus of mechanical clicks rained around him. Those were guns. That’s what the cocking of guns sounded like.

He was going to die, they could shoot him down right now if he didn't do something. The blood was pounding in his ears. He needed to do something they were going to find out.

Without time to think of a plan or second guess, he lurched his body around to the source of the voice. He opened his mouth in a cry for help but nothing came out, same as before, days of not being used had taken their toll.

The guard, clearly unsure of what to do, raised a rifle at Prompto.

“Stand down!” He shouted. 

"-pah" Prompto tried again, voice, completely shot. This was his one chance, he needed anyone to figure out what was going on. “Please!”

Something grabbed the back of his neck, and he nearly jumped from shock.

"Stay calm." A voice said into his ear. Faster than he anticipated he was being steered away from the group. And spun around to face the voice.

Blearily he recognized it was a man that stood in front of him, glasses, dark clothes, kings guard.

Prompto clenched his jaw and tried to breath through his nose. He wanted to close his eyes from the man who was a hair's breadth from killing him. But his mind was swimming and his nausea creeped up the back of his throat as he closed his eyes. He settled on the staring at a floor tile.

"Can you speak?" The man said.

He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He nodded one, twice, erratically. "...es...yes"

"Who do you work for?"

He could only shake his head. Work for? Work for. He wasn't here because of work. "I don't... I don't-"

“Where are you from?”

His legs were screaming at him. His whole body aching for relief. He knew they wouldn’t like the answer but he could give them nothing but the truth, he could hide nothing in this position.

“Em-Em-…The Empire.”

“Spy!” a voice shouted.

“No! No no nonono…” he protested.

"Enough of this." A gruff voice tore across the room. "He asked you a question!" It roared. 

Prompto instinctively glanced up, enough time to register the dark blur swinging at him.

His shoulder ached, his hip screamed. His face was pressed against something cold.

He was on the floor.

His head was a blossom of pain. An unfurling pulsing creature that wrapped around his head.

He coughed up something hot and wet and the creature wrapped tighter. 

And despite feeling like there was nothing left of him to give, he began to cry. 

He was going to die here, on the floor. So far away from everyone and everything he knew and loved. 

And then suddenly. The pain began to ease. The coldness in his bones and joints replaced with a warmth. That felt so good he could only cry harder. 

That's when he noticed he was the only thing he could hear. In a panic he opened his eyes. A young man was standing over him, black hair, black clothes, touching him, looking at him. 

"A human, potions don’t work on MT’s”

_____

Prompto awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up and immediately regretted it, a low sharpness in his head alerted him of a persisting migraine. He also registered the feeling of the new texture of clothes that had been placed on him. He was absurdly grateful for the small comforts. He was still cuffed and collared which he wasn't surprised about. But now that he was no longer in immediate danger he had time to think about how bad things actually were. 

He had been shipped with a bunch of unmasked MT units that looked like him, directly to the Prince of Insomnia, neck deep in a foreign country that hated the Empire's guts. 

Yeah things were bad. They probably thought he was a spy or some sort of plant. The only thing he had on his side was the truth, which didn't amount to much.

His room was deathly sparse. A tray of water and Empire standard rations. A padded mattress, and bedding set, a small bathroom with what looked to be a toilet and sink. There was evidence that it used to be furnished. Discolored carpet and walls where furniture used to sit. Not to mention the bars crudely set into his door which were probably added in a hurry. From the low light filtering in, it was probably night.

"Hey." The same gruff voice from before spoke again. Prompto's skin crawled. "The prince is coming, you might want to get up."

The man speaking was outside his door, his profile was strong, there was a scar crossing his eye. 

As a prisoner Prompto was acutely aware that defiance could mean the end of him at any moment, so standing it was.

He kept his eyes deferred as more people filled the room. He wasn't sure what to do so he attempted a bow from the waist and hoped it was good enough.

He heard a half scoff, "You can stop that."

Prompto unfolded himself, now seeing he was in front of glasses, the scar, and in the middle, the black haired man, Prince Noctis.

"What is your name" the man in glasses asked.

"Pr-" he once again found himself hoarse, “Prompto, Prompto Argentum."

"Do you work for the Empire?" It seemed like he was going to be leading the interrogation.

"No, but I live there." 

"Where did you get that bar code."

Prompto flushed, he hated that damn thing. "I've always had it..." 

"What is your involvement in the Gene Sequencing Magi Technologies Project?"

Gene Sequencing... it sounded familiar, was it a part of the government broadcasts? Something he had overheard in school? He was drawing a blank. "I... don't... I don't know what that is?"

"Why did you come here?" 

"I didn't. I was kidnapped-" Scar let out a bark of a laugh, Prompto pressed on, "And...and drugged. I was told to obey orders...and I guess pretend to be one of them."

"One of them? You mean the Magitek units?" 

"Yes." He recalled the face floating in the tube in front of him. His own face.

"Have you never seen an MT unmasked?" The prince finally spoke up.

Once when he was younger he had seen a trashed Magitek Trooper being torn apart by some teenagers. Early on you were taught assaulting an MT was a class 6 felony punishable by hard labor. They had always scared him, even seeing one torn apart didn't diminish that. The boys had crushed its face in. "No." 

"He's not lying." Glasses confirmed. Consulting something, whatever had been tucked into his palm

"I don't know why I look like those things. I never- I don't know anything about this." He pleaded.

"Even if you weren't involved," Scar drolled, "You're still enemy eyes in our capital."

"You’re suggesting locking him up?" the prince asked.

"Correct,” Glasses answered. “But I'm almost hesitant to move him. We don't know what he could report if we placed him with others from the Empire." 

"Hey-" Prompto started, but the others didn't even register him.

"We also don't have the full story. He should stay here until we know exactly who he is and why he's here” Glasses continued. “Wouldn't do us any good if the people who put him here grabbed him back up again." he said with clinical practicality.

“And if he breaks out and somehow finds himself in the king's chambers ready to strike?” Scar head clearly thought he was some sort of a threat.

“Chain him up then,” the man in glasses said almost dully “or do whatever you need to see to it that your men feel confident he will never leave this room. We can increase security around his majesty's chambers until further notice.”

The prince sighed. "We should talk about this somewhere else." He looked pointedly at Prompto. "Think hard about what got you here. I want a full story the next time I see you."

On that, he turned and walked out, the two kings guards following close behind.

Two new guards filled in as the others left. “Hands,” one with a shaved head said. 

They removed his cuffs but did nothing about the collar that had been placed on him.

“What day is it?” 

There was no response, they turned right around and locked the door behind them, which wasn’t surprising really, but still stung all the same.

Prompto with nothing else to do, sat on his cot, opened his rations, and thought about the day he was kidnapped.

He had come home from university late, his parents weren’t home. But that wasn’t unusual. He knew they worked for the government and were often gone for weeks at a time. He didn’t think anyone had followed him. The Magitek soldiers had been out, but that wasn’t unusual either. They were there to enforce the curfew, he sprinted home because he was cutting it close as the trains had been out. He walked in the house and set down his bag, and someone pressed something sour against his mouth. He twisted around, tried to get out of it, but the attacker was too strong. He didn’t say anything, no threats, but no voice to identify them either. And he felt heavy, his knees buckled beneath him, and he hit the ground.

And then he was in the room. A dark room, it was chilled constantly, maybe it was underground? It was all concrete, a stairwell leading up to a door in the corner, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, and equally disturbing a chain bolted to the floor which connected to him at a collar, and a drain. He thought at first he was going to die. He had been stripped down, and his hair cropped short. For hours that first day he waited. Hoping that the police, his parents, anyone would come down those stairs and save him. But that didn’t happen.

From then on his life turned from days, into moments. He lived to do whatever the man in the mask said. He was quiet, and obedient. Because if he wasn’t he was beaten. Hard. Taught to make his movements mechanical. Stiff. Jerky. Devoid of life. To think someone was trying to train him to act like a Magi Tech was insane. And he broke down 24 hours within the capital. Whatever the masked man wanted, Prompto must have failed at it. But if he had wanted Prompto dead there were easier ways to do it. And it’s not like the death of a magitek trooper was heresy here. Why him? Why did the other MT’s look like him? He wasn’t anyone of importance. His grades were average. He was one of 20 guys in his class. He just wanted to have a life, it didn’t have to be spectacular, he just wanted to be. 

\--

  
  


Fear kept him awake. His mind had been sluggish from when he first woke up. And he slowly rolled through the events that brought him here, the kidnapping, the basement, the transport, the castle. Over and over he tried to remember something, anything important. 

There were footsteps. Many of them.

“You!” A guard barked through his door, “on your knees, hands behind your head!” 

Prompto complied as quickly as he was able, once again his legs felt like they could collapse beneath him. In quick succession two guards entered the room guns trained on him from both sides.

Next, a man entered surrounded by even more guards. Prompto had seen propaganda posters of him but they could never capture his grimness. 

His son may have laughed at the attempt of respect but Prompto wasn’t about to press his luck with the Tyrant King. He slowly lowered himself into a bow until he was afraid that he would topple over by going any farther. 

A set of footsteps accompanied by a cane unevenly clacked into the room.

“At ease.” The cold voice said.

Prompto eased himself up slightly, but couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“What are you doing in my kingdom?”

Prompto licked his lips, that was a good question he himself would like to know.

Something hard touched his temple and he could only assume it was the muzzle of a gun, “Start talking.” a soldier barked.

Prompto didn’t need to be told twice, “I-I-I was kid-kidnapped when I came home from sch-school. They locked me up some-somewhere and...and beat me. Beat me until I complied, until I acted the way they wanted me to.” It was still so raw to say out loud, in his head he didn’t need to define what happened, he lived it. But saying it out loud seemed like there was no denying it was what actually happened to him.

  
He felt the muzzle push into him again.

“I was put in... into a tank. And when I woke up I saw another me.” He grit his teeth in frustration, “I was so scared I just, I acted like I was taught. I didn’t know where I was going, I just wanted it to end.”

“You must know we have a tenuous relationship with the Empire, it might be considered an act of good will to return a defector.” The king said this mildly, but the weight hit Prompto like a slug. Defectors were killed, he didn’t have his papers, he couldn’t tell anyone why he left. The government wouldn’t blink at taking an innocent man to their internment camp. His parents secretly always taught him to be wary of the government, and being thrust into their hands made him feel sick. 

“Please.” He shakily breathed, “kill me then.” He raised his head. “I have no home to return to. They’ll kill me, slowly, and I- I don’t know...” his eyes became hot and blurry as he broke down at the uselessness of it all. He should have thrown himself in front of one of the guards. There was no ending where he ended up okay.

“Enough.” The king said simply, and Prompto did his best to quiet himself. 

“If there is truly no home for you to return to. Is your loyalty to the state also abandoned as well?”

Prompto hesitated, he knew what the king was asking, would he truly turn traitor and talk about their hermit kingdom? But...his parents still lived there. He had friends and animals he relied on. He needed to be honest, that was the only thing he had.

“I have a mom and dad and friends, I don’t want them to get hurt.” he all but whimpered.

The king nodded, then made his leave. Prompto stayed on his knees as the guards filed out. And stayed there until he remembered that he should probably be asleep.

———

The next few days he was left alone. Probably like Glasses had said, they were figuring out what to do with him.

Prompto waited. And waited. From the last time they spoke he had assumed the prince would want to speak to him right away. But now that seemed naïve. He was a prince, he must have things to do. Things bigger and grander than dealing with a stray Empire scum who didn’t know why they were there in the first place.

None of the guards outside his cell were particularly talkative. He did learn that he was going to be receiving regular meals, the guards did change shifts, but no, they weren’t going to tell them who was filling in next. A friendlier guard shared that she had never met anyone from the Empire before, and she smiled when she said it, so Prompto counted her a potential friend. But even she wouldn’t tell him what the day was.   
  
A few days later he received a visit from a doctor. The man checked his range of movement, blood tests, vision, he was even fingerprinted and photographed. All the while Glasses stood in the corner. Allowing him at least some privacy.    
  
The tech they used was like nothing they had back home. Blood and saliva tests all condensed into one cart and hand held tablet. Medicines contained in breakable ampules that worked by being pressed against the skin. Prompto didn’t know too much about magic. From the Empire, it seemed like it’s only function was powering machinery and keeping the lights on. Nothing so delicate as this.   
  
He was asked about his allergies and persistent medical conditions. But Prompto wasn’t aware of anything like that. Truthfully he hadn’t been to the doctors in a long time. Always being taught that being treated at home was faster and safer than the hospitals in the city.   
  
Eventually the doctor rattled off a long list of things apparently Prompto had wrong with him, Vitamin deficiencies, dehydration, weak heart, and a bunch of other things he didn’t quite know what they were.   
  
“And the freckles?...” Glasses asked.   
  
“What about them? Looks to be a normal case of sun exposure. A few years worth at least.” The doctor answered.   
  
Glasses seemed satisfied, taking the last of his notes. And Prompto wondered what his role in all of this was. 

  
_____

Three days later, Glasses shifted into guard rotation. Even stranger, he knocked on Prompto’s door. The sudden courtesy rattled him, “May I come in?”

“Y-yes” He hated that. His voice shook and broke, unexpectedly now. Even trying to use it more, talking to the guards or even himself didn’t seem to make it any stronger.

Glasses stepped inside, the tell tale sound of the heavy lock being replaced followed him in. He stood by the door because really, Prompto had no place to offer him to sit.

He was...pretty. He was too scared to really look at him that first night, but it was true. He had a spikey sort of sand colored pompadour and rectangle glasses that sat on a very straight nose. He looked like a well dressed clerk or assistant, but Prompto figured anyone working for the prince could afford to look like that. It was kind of annoying.

“I thought we could have a chat.” A neutral statement, his face displayed no emotion. Prompto couldn’t exactly say no. He nodded. 

“From now on, I will be your liaison for requests.” He said in a prim sort of voice, “I cannot promise everything will be addressed but we will do our best.”   
  


Requests? He could feel his own eyebrow arching to a ridiculous degree. What was this a day spa? What the hell was he talking about. 

“We could grant you an additional blanket, or-”

“What day is it?” Prompto blurted out. The one incessant inane thing that had been bothering him since he woke up. And if these people really wanted to grant him something they could at least tell him that much.

If this had surprised or taken aback Glasses he showed no sign of it “It is 17 th of Ifritian, year of our oracle 2192.”

It had been 4 months.

He had gone for 4 over months. His parents, his classes, his friends, all the animals he would feed on his way home. Did they know? Were they looking for him? Did they care? 

“What was the last date you remember?” Glasses asked with surprising tenderness.

“The 4 th of Shivaros.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And he genuinely sounded apologetic. “I can attempt to field any other concerns ...within reason.”

“The prince wanted to talk to me… and I,” It hurt to say...to admit that he wasn’t strong enough, “ I was drugged so often… I’m afraid if I don’t say what happened, if I don’t write it down or something, I’m going to forget. Can I speak to him now, er well soon I guess…” He dug his fingers into his scalp, hating the course bristling hair that he found there.

“I am not at liberty to divulge the prince’s schedule, but I believe we can find a solution that works for everyone.” 

"What happened to the other Magitek units?" Maybe asking wouldn't look too good for him, but he was still worried. As terrible and cruel as the circumstances were he still felt some sympathy for those things that looked like him.

"I'm not at liberty to say." 

He bit his lip, it was fair. After all, what if Prompto was a spy and he needed those engines for some nefarious scheme. Not that he didn't have hours alone with them before, but I guess they were still afraid of what could happen. 

Slowly another question rose from him, an idea that hadn't occurred to him "Was I...Am I the only-" this was so hard to ask. The mess of his life these past few months had been a blur. But the possibility still lingered that he could have missed it. So blinded by his own terror he never saw somebody else's "...the rest are all machines right? Nobody else was human." 

He looked at Glasses who seemed to remain neutral. Only a small twitch of his eyes betrayed his interest.

"The rest were all machines. You are the only human." 

"Good." He said suddenly. And because this was the first time someone had paid attention to him he kept going, "It's strange enough to know that the soldiers I would pass every day of my life had the same face as me. They're posted on every street corner, to keep the peace. I have passed at least one probably every day of my damn life. It-It- It's like some bad dream that the harder you think about it the worse it gets, you know?" He licked his lips, maybe it wasn't smart to be blathering so much but he needed someone to listen to him, "I mean what if soldiers were just the start? What if- if- if -if there were other tests? experiments? clones too or like slaves?" The thought tore through him like a physical hit. "Maybe I'm not even the original... Maybe I'm just someone else's spare. Or some sort of failure..." The barcode now felt like an ugly overwhelming truth. Maybe he was just a cheap imitation of someone else. The original would never be branded like he was. The original wouldn't need to know.

"Surely your parents-"

"I was adopted. I don’t know where I came from." He looked at the man in glasses. He felt torn raw, and he needed someone, anyone to show him some empathy. Reassure him that this was all some sort of mistake, that he was real. 

But the man didn't know him, and while he wasn't particularly expressive, the slight wideness of his eyes from shock and the furrow in his brow, said he was confused and maybe a little annoyed that his grasp on this conversation had slipped away from his control. 

"I don't think there is anything I could say that would give you comfort right now." He said slowly, "Something terrible seems to have happened to you, and hopefully once we understand the situation better his majesty will do his best to-... well help you, granted everything you're saying is true." 

That's right, if.  **IF** he was telling the truth, because on top of everything, he was still a criminal. And these hysterics were helping nothing.

"Thank you..." he muttered "for listening. At least." 

Glasses nodded, probably eager for the conversation to end.

“Do you have any other requests that I could potentially fulfill for you?” He almost hesitantly asked.   
  
“Could I have a hat, just something to cover my ears?” He felt embarrassed to ask, but feeling his own short hair made him feel so unlike himself. Covering it would make him feel a little more comfortable in his own skin. “And maybe...a book. I guess.” 

Glasses nodded. He lingered for a moment. “Do you have a favorite food, by any chance?” 

The question hung awkwardly between them. 

Prompto looked at this man, someone who maybe believed him. And maybe wanted to help him. He couldn’t afford to doubt anyone who gave him hope. He would break if he felt completely alone here. 

“Meat pies...I’m not really picky about what goes in them.” He tried to smile. A joke, a small one, as no one really asked what was in meat pies back home.

Glasses nodded.

_____

From then on Prompto began to be regularly interrogated. He guessed this was the result of wanting to tell his side of the story. Never by the same people and never the same tactic. He was honest as far as he could be. Everyone seemed to be interested in the same things, what did he do in the Empire, who were his parents, and where did his tattoo come from. But unfortunately even after the 100th time asked he still didn’t know all the answers. They spent a lot of time on his appearance and why he happened to look like an unmasked magitek trooper. Which again, Prompto had no answers for. The questions about the Empire were easier. He didn’t feel like he knew enough to say anything that could get his parents in trouble, or get people hurt. And at this point there was no going back, he had left illegally, and that made him a defector. Thankfully that kept people busy and happy enough. 

The questioners were never violent, which he appreciated, and even if the sessions went on for long periods of time he was still fed and kept moderately comfortable. He knew that outside city’s were not as bad as the empire, he had seen his fair share of smuggled shows and movies, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was another shoe waiting to be dropped.

____ 

Prompto was aware of someone talking. The days had started to blur together. Aside from being awoken for questioning or food he had no schedule. He had curled up in his bed for the night, he hadn't quite fallen asleep, more of that erratic dozing that happens when you try to sleep somewhere new. Just as his eye had begun to burn from tiredness a voice broke through the silence. It was clearly coming from outside his room, so the words were indistinguishable, but the tamber recognizable. It was the prince.

Slowly he turned to the door to find himself already being stared at. He started to roll back, but the prince stopped him, "Hey!"

This was unreal, why was he here? Even stranger he didn't have Glasses or Scar with him tonight. But he didn't have any reason to not talk to him, so he got up and cautiously approached the door. 

"Hey..." the prince said again, awkwardly this time. Prompto hadn't noticed before but they might have been around the same age. He looked like he might have just gotten out bed too.

"Hey...your, uh, majesty." He replied. 

The prince looked nervous, and had a hard time looking him in the eye.

"Iggy told me about what you said to him the other day." He licked his lips. "Do you really think that? That there may be other clones of you?"

Prompto was a little taken aback. He had said those things a little recklessly sure, but he guessed everything he said was going to be scrutinized now. 

"I...I don't know... I said that because I was scared..." 

Prince Noctis pressed on, "So you don't have any evidence?" 

"No I guess not." 

The prince looked him up and down as best he could. “What about your barcode. That’s what the troopers use on all their models.”   
  
“I’ve always had it.” He held it up near his face, “I had no idea that the troopers had the same thing, I was always told it was dangerous to show people.”   
  
The prince did not look like he believed him.

“Look, I mean I am telling the truth, I don't know if I'm the only human  _ me _ out there or if I’m some sort of copy...also just throwing it out there, if I was a spy it's pretty shitty of me to have an emotional breakdown in just about the stupidest place possible." 

Noctis smiled, a small genuine thing. "We talked about that too, though you did pretty well for being dehydrated and incredibly sleep deprived." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, you slept for 13 hours after you collapsed. We had an IV in you for 6." Noctis was smiling full force now. 

"No way..."

"So for a spy you were actually holding up pretty well." 

Prompto found himself smiling too, "If you really thought I was a spy wouldn't-" 

"Hey!" A loud bark shattered the conversation. 

"Aw crap..." Noctis said, before backing away from the door. Prompto followed his lead as he heard the heavy steps come closer.

"The hell are you doing? You know you're not supposed to talk to him alone." Scar head chided.

"I wanted to ask him about the clone thing he said." Noctis replied. He sounded bored and maybe a little annoyed at having to explain himself. Probably isn't used to it being a prince. 

"Then do it when your advisor is awake." Scar loomed over him, arms folded, extremely displeased.

The prince rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t make me drag you back to bed, you know I can.” And Prompto believed it too, scar guy was solid muscle. “Or we can do drill training at sunrise, I know that you’re a fan of burpies in the morning.”

The prince seemed to take both threats in stride, “Yeah yeah I hear ya,” he turned to Prompto, “we’re not done with this conversation.” And walked off.

Scar head looked at Prompto too, “You should get some rest.” And then he stalked back into the darkness from where he came.

______

After his talk with Glasses his food had begun to improve. Fresh fruit and tangy sweet pudding he had never had before. Lots of vegetables and rice and a small portion of meat for dinner. He honestly wasn't used to eating so well even when he was home. One night they had given him a big dish with chicken all mixed up with egg and rice. Prompto could have cried. Someone had managed to make it even better than his mom did.

Aside from the food, Prompto's other adjustment was dealing with the boredom. He had been given one book, along with the knit hat he had asked for, and told he would be given another when he finished that one. The only other pastime he had at his disposal was exercise. 

His excessive amount of free time gave him ample opportunity to assess what the months had done to him. He was thin. Living at home, his family’s food supply wasn’t the most consistent. But now his bones stood out more than ever. And months without proper use made his muscles protest even the most mundane tasks. He started everyday with stretching, something to at least warm up every part in his body. It was relaxing too. Without it, his mind buzzed constantly with what was going to happen to him, why he was in this situation, what was going on at home. But there weren't any answers so anything to take his mind off of it was a worthwhile activity. 

_____

“You’re going to be moved.” Glasses said to him one morning. 

“Oh when?” Prompto asked. Unlike his other jailors he learned that Glasses liked to act like he was a person and have a conversation with him.

“Soon, probably as soon as you’re finished eating, we’ll be ready to move you.” He seemed distracted this morning. Concentrating on his phone, pushing his glasses back into place. 

“Why?” Prompto asked.

  
“We’ve deemed your need for constant supervision to be superfluous, so we’re going to be housing you in a more controllable room.” 

Oh, less people to talk to.

“I meant to come here earlier but,” He consulted his watch,”We should still be able to do this efficiently. Do you mind pretending to be one the machines again? I'm afraid this late in the day it's either that or sticking you in a box.” He sounded like he thought both ideas were ridiculous, and Prompto didn't hate him as much for asking.

“I can walk like them...it's fine.” 

Glasses stared down at him. Assessing him. He did that a lot too. Then he was done, and back on his phone. Probably just a quick cursory check to see if he was lying. 

“Then the last thing I will ask of you is to put on these.”

He handed Prompto a folded pair of clothes that were immediately apparent as the ones he had been presented in. Once they were handed off he turned his back to Prompto for some slight privacy.

Prompto hesitated, staring at the other man’s back. Was he really just giving Prompto this opening? If Prompto was really the scheming outsider everyone thought he was, wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to attack him. 

“If this is uncomfortable for you we can find another solution, but you will need to decide quickly.” 

The polite way to ask him to hurry up, Prompto began to get changed, “No, I just don't get why you actually trust me not to attack you.”

The man's back began to shake, he then realized he was being laughed at. “I don't actually. However I did carry you to this room and have a full report on all your vitamin deficiencies. Not to mention several martial arts titles under my belt.” Prompto defensively pulled the pants on a little faster. “Also, maybe I'm a bit naive... but I like to think that you don't have a reason to attack me.”

Prompto stared again at his back, a little peeved he wasn't really considered a threat, even if it was 100% true. 

“Yeah... “ Prompto admitted “Okay, do I need the cuffs too?” 

“That shouldn't be necessary, the ones you wore were for ease of transport.” The man looked him up and down, “I'm going to need your hat as well.” 

Oh right. 

Prompto removed the last bit of self that felt like he owned and held it out. 

It was warm in his hands, the knit was loose and soft. 

Another hand closed around the cap. “I’ll take good care of it.”

He felt dumb for being sentimental. But he had given up so much these past few months, he was starting to feel like there was nothing left. He just had to trust glasses.

He couldn't afford to question kindness. 

  
  


The walk wasn’t a hard one. When he was healthy this sort of acting wasn’t so bad. Prompto had put himself into a rhythmic state. The monotony bleeding all the black shapes into nothing. So perhaps that’s why a certain voice cleaved through his consciousness so clearly.

“Ah Mr. Scientia, so good to run into you this morning.”   
  


That smooth voice sounded incredibly familiar.   
  


“Grand Ambassador  Izunia, it’s good to see you as well.” Glasses had stopped, and Prompto had barely registered it in time, nearly crashing into him. 

“Please, you must call me Ardyn. We’ve become so close these past few months, it really seems a shame we are still on such formal terms.”   
  


Prompto had never seen the ambassador in person, but he certainly knew who he was. Often found standing next to the Emperor or Master Scientist for the occasional speech or appearance on the National News Network. He was afraid to try and catch a glimpse now that his vision had blurred out to focus on nothing. He registered a brown red shape coming toward them.   
  


‘“As you wish, Ambassador Ardyn.”   
  


“Good,” The smooth voice said. Just seeing him on screen Prompto had always felt there was something about him that rubbed him the wrong way. And in person that feeling was only multiplied, “and I see you have one our little friends in tow. Tell me Ignis, is the prince enjoying his new toys?”

  
“Yes, Ambassador. He is very pleased with the gift. Now if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment.” Glasses was doing a good job of keeping his voice under control but there was an urgency there.

  
“Such a rush! I am curious where you are off to with a single unit in tow.” the Ambassador was now very close, sidling up to both of them.

  
“Engineer Wing. The unit has a sporadic neural delay for commands.” 

“Ah” Out of the corner of his vision a shape was rapidly coming at him. A firm but soft touch had grabbed his chin and started to move it. “Such a shame, those are often fatal.”

As his face turned, Prompto stomach dropped and fear tamped down every twitch and breath that he could have drawn at that moment. The worst was trying his damndest to keep his eyes still, allowing his focus to glaze over the face in front of him.    
  


“Ambassador.” Glasses said in a clipped voice, “I really must be going.” and with that he started walking, doing his best to remember the pauses and movements that had been ingrained into him, Prompto let his head slide back into place and mechanically tried to follow behind.

“Yes, yes... Well, here’s hoping it's not a lost cause.” the Ambassador called behind them. 

  
  


Wherever they were going it was a very tense walk. The Ambassador had touched him, for sure he would realize that Prompto wasn't a machine. The Ambassador was tight in the King's inner circle. There is no way that this was the first time he would have touched a Magitek unit. Glasses had also probably realized this. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that name he heard for Glasses was nagging him. Where had he heard it before?

They walked and walked zig zagging around the castle. Possibly to confuse him, or more likely the Ambassador. But eventually they arrived at a nondescript metal door with a key card and number pad. Scientia scanned his card and entered some numbers out of prompto's sight. Quietly they both entered the darkened room, and as soon as the door was closed Prompto dropped his act. 

“I think he knows.” The other man had yet to turn on the lights, but Prompto was somewhat thankful for the dimness, “I'm sorry, I really tried to-” 

“Stop.” Scientia’s voice had taken a rough edge, and a cold fear washed over Prompt. He was upset with him, something bad was going to happen...

There was a heavy sigh, and with a click, the lights went up in the room. His jailer looked...sad. “Don't apologize. This fiasco was entirely my fault. I had no idea Izunia had returned prematurely, but honestly I should have accounted for anyone seeing you.” He was shaking his head. “Even the worst case scenario such as this. And for that I apologize Prompto.” His delivery was rushed in what seemed like irritation for himself. He adjusted his glasses and stood a little straighter as if he was expecting a scolding. 

Prompto was a little surprised to say the least. 

“I’m-“ Glasses paused, “I really didn't want to make life any harder for you...”

“Hey it's...” Prompto started. But it wasn’t alright, or even fine. It was a shitty situation. The ambassador probably had a pretty good idea what an up to date Magitek unit looked and felt like. If there was any reason to suspect that Prompto was anything but a machine, Insomnia would be in a shit storm of trouble. “...I appreciate what you were trying to do, and I don’t want to make life harder for you guys either.”

  
He offered the other man a smile, he didn’t want to be anyone's enemy, or burden.   
“What was that he called you?”    
  


“My name...” He sounded annoyed, Glasses seemed to be one of the few remaining guards trying to keep his anonymity intact.    
  


“Ignis?”    
  


“Scientica. At your service.” He had pulled out his phone, and rapid fire had begun typing something in. “Unfortunately, this outcome is very bad for both of us. I need to do damage control, and see to it our story is more believable to the ambassador. I will attempt to reconvene with you before the end of the day, but- “ He very forcefully concluded his text and shoved his phone in his pocket. “We will see.”    
  


Glasses, or Scientica, accessed a similar looking pin pad and left before Prompto could say another word.   
  


__________

  
Ingis never returned to check in with him. Giving him ample time to look at his new space. The lodgings weren’t really too much different, he was still alone. The only real change was the amount of room he was given. This space seemed to be a barracks of some kind. Multiple bunk beds, a multi-shower head bathroom with lockers, and a few trunks and desks, all empty of course, with no signs of being used any time soon. And Prompto wondered if rich people ever simply forgot they had extra rooms sometimes. 

What he had lost in windows he had gained in paper and a pen. They had given him a small sketchbook and pen. First he wrote everything down, everything that had happened to him since the kidnapping and then in the castle, as many facts and possible important clues that he could remember. Next he wrote letters, one to his parents of course, one to his friends, one to the animals he left behind. Spilling all the things he wished he had said, and things he was afraid he could never say. Prompto knew whatever he wrote would never be private, but he couldn’t help himself. Writing it down helped keep everything out of his head.   
  


Just as before, he had more than enough time to think about everything. Now including Ignis, Prompto remembered where he had heard that name before. In broadcasts regarding the war effort, that was where he had heard that name. In them Ignis was depicted as feral as the daemons. From a low class birth he had climbed the ranks for his bloodthirsty tendencies on the battlefield, earning him a spot in the prince's retenue. From the depictions Prompto had always imagined a wild, older man. Not someone barely older than himself, and certainly not someone as proper as Glasses.

  
Ignis didn’t return for the rest of the week. Food was delivered three times a day, but prompto could tell this was unlike what he was being served before. His things, if he could call them that, were also delivered sometime later.

Without the guards standing by, Prompto’s life slowed down significantly. The days passed as a crawl as Prompto sat and waited for what would happen next.

______

Something was wrong. Despite not having a direct window or a clock, Prompto had a vague idea of what time it was thanks to his stomach. He had either missed one meal service or both and the sun had definitely set by now. He was about to turn in, when he heard something. Something he hadn’t heard in months. Footsteps many of them all coming down what sounded like his hallway. 

. 

He moved to his feet unsure of what to do with himself. As the footsteps grew closer his heart began to pound. 

The was two loud commands. Then the loudest bang he had ever heard as something slammed into the door. 

“Again!” The voice yelled clearer this time.

Bad. This was bad.

Prompto had less than a second to throw himself under one of the beds. 

A second slam and the door swung open on its hinges. From his vantage point he could see a flurry of boots swarm through the door. 

“He should be in here,” a feminine voice said. “Search the beds.”

Then the boots began to move, and Prompto prayed to anyone who was listening that someone, anyone, would help him. 

A pair of boots knelt next to the bed and the face that appeared made his blood run cold. It was a magitek trooper mask. 

Wordlessly the trooper reached under the bed to grab at him, he tried to kick back at his attacker but without feeling pain the trooper continued to pull him free.

“Oh you found him.” The female voice said almost bored.

More hands grabbed at him, strong hands, his hands he thought morbidly, and stood him up to face what was apparently their leader.

“Let’s see,” the woman wore a full helmet, but he had seen her weapon of choice before, a spear which he knew could only make her a dragoon. “Gimme his wrists.” Obediently his hands were presented, and she pushed up his sleeve to see the barcode. “Yep he’s the real deal.” 

Nonshalontly she produced a pair of sophisticated wrist cuffs and cuffed him. “He’s pretty cute when he’s terrified. Alright boys, pack him up,and let's head out.” She turned around to leave.

“H-hey! Hey?! Don’t do this!” Prompto finally found his voice, but the woman wasn’t stopping, “You don’t have to do this?!” 

“Gag him too,” she called over her shoulder. And obediently some sort of cloth was forced into his mouth. One of the soldiers picked him up like a sack of potatoes, throwing him easily over one shoulder. 

This was it, barring some divine event he was going to get taken back to Niflheim. He started to struggle as the hoard of Magitek units walked into the hallway. 

There was another loud boom. From somewhere above him, another attack? Prompto could see very little from his position.

“Alright fall into line, we’re moving out.” The woman called. And they began to move.

Prompto continued to struggle as the group hauled him further and further from his room. When a familiar voice cut through the hall.

“They’re over here!” Yelled Ignis.

“Shit.” Said the dragoon, “Protect the asset at all costs, proceed to the rendezvous point.” 

The magtechi units straightened into position with more units swarming around Prompto. 

There was a violent clash of sounds. Steel on steel, grunts of pain and effort, Prompto hoped Ignis had brought reinforcements. He tried struggling one more time to have his efforts rewarded by falling heartily to the floor. 

“Prompto!” He heard Ignis cry out. Looking around he saw Ignis engaged in combat with the dragoon. Prompto got his knees out from under him, struggling as his hands were still bound, shakily getting to his feet as chaos continued to erupt around him.He saw Ignis push the dragoon back, frantically looking into the frey for him. He finally spotted him, and they locked eyes for a fraction of a second, the crashing of bodies erupting around them. Ignis stood there looking right at him. Prompto cast about, there were Magitek units everywhere. But there was an opening, a large gap behind him. Leading away from the fighting, and Ignis. He looked back at Ignis, then turned around and ran.

  
  


He heard all hell break loose as he made his escape. The dragoon was screaming, footsteps pounded after him, he thought he heard his name again. But he couldn’t stop.

He had no idea where he was going, barreling pell mell through the halls he lucked out in finding a stairwell which caused the troopers a bit of trouble. But from there he was running blind. He occasionally saw other people, all preoccupied with their own issues but he didn’t dare ask for help.

He had very little sense of direction. He knew he was on one of the higher floors, after being

moved from the small cell to the larger one. But that small cell could have been anywhere.

He was breaking down a long hallway when something knocked out the back of his knees.

He fell ass over tea kettle, tumbling over some ornate carpet. He wrenched his head back, and there was Ignis, barreling toward him.

The closer he came the worse it was. He looked like he had crawled out of hell itself. Bruised, bloody and pissed. His expression was practically murderous. 

“You.” He all but growled as he stalked up to him. He reached down and grabbed Prompto by the front of his shirt and hauled him up. “Don’t EVER do that again.” There was no time for any other words as the unmistakable sound of a dozen combat boots trampled into range. 

“Come on” Ignis switched his grip to a vice like hold on his arm, which Prompto didn’t dare try and break from. 

Ignis tried several doors in the hallway, the majority of which were locked, until finding one his security card worked with. 

He shoved Prompto into the dark room and closed the door on both of them. Prompto backed up as far as he could before he started running into things. The room was small and cluttered, and Prompto soon found himself pressed against a shelf with Ignis very very close to him.

“Hold still.” Ignis said somewhere next to his ear. With one hand he pulled out his phone and with the other he was fiddling with his collar. Prompto's heart was pounding out of his chest. “Ig-“ 

“Not now.” He couldn’t see Ignis’s face but he could feel the anger coming off of him in waves. Outside the footsteps came closer and both Prompto and Ignis stilled. Prompto could feel the other man's breath on his cheek and every point of contact between their bodies.

As tense and horrific as the situation was Prompto couldn’t help but feel Ignis against him. Prompto tried to focus on the troopers, and on staying silent, but the more he noticed Ignis’s warmth the more he craved it. His knee gently pressing into his thigh, the hand on his upper arm, the breath on the side of his face, not to mention Prompto’s bound hands pressing into what was probably his stomach. He smelled like blood.

When was the last time he was this close to someone. When was the last time his father hugged him? When he had messed around with one of the guys from his class? Years. It was years. 

As the footsteps passed, Ignis backed up fractionally and resumed whatever he was doing with his collar. Prompto tried not to think of the worst case scenario for whatever he was doing or how close he was. 

Finally with a small chirp and a click, the collar clicked open, and was removed. Astonished, Prompto reached up and touched the sensitive skin there. 

Ignis immediately retreated and from the dim glow of his phone seemed to be frantically typing. 

Prompto wanted to say something, an apology? A thank you? Ignis probably didn’t want either and Prompto wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say.

“Get ready to move,” came Ignis’s voice, as he repeated his strong grip on his arm. They slowly walked towards the door, then with no warning Ignis burst through and began to sprint through several halls. They all looked more or less the same to Prompto but of course Ignis would know what he was doing. 

At one point they approached the elevators, Ignis called one, then tossed in Prompto’s collar and sent it down stairs. It finally hit Prompto that it was possible it was used for tracking. He was then incredibly thankful Ignis had found him first. 

After a few more instances of running and hiding, they were in another stairwell, this time moving up. Prompto’s adrenaline had finally worn off and he found his side to be in stitches, and his breath coming in big wheezing gulps. His mouth felt heavy and sour and his head was light. Ignis was still silently gripping his wrist, occasionally checking his phone. Their steps echoing in the dark concrete well.

Ignis stopped suddenly on the steps. “Are you having trouble?” 

Prompto nodded. 

“We can slow down, but we should keep going.” He said more gently.

They took a few more steps.

“Why did you run...That was so incredibly stupid” Ignis said more to himself than anything. He didn’t even look at Prompto.

Prompto didn’t even know himself. There was chaos all around him. He saw an opening and he took it. As much as Insomnia had not killed him on sight, they were still not his friends. He just wanted to go home, and that was the first opportunity someone wasn’t telling him what to do or where to be. So he took it. Even if it was stupid, he would have hated himself more for not taking it. 

“Will I... go to jail?” Prompto asked in between heaving breaths. 

“That depends. There’s a whole counsel now dedicated to your well being and this fiasco may change some things.” Ignis said as they climbed . Prompto bitterly noted he wasn’t out of breath at all. 

Exiting the stairs they walked in silence as Ignis led him through more of the building. They turned a corner and suddenly there were dozens of Insomnia guards. 

“Hold. It’s Iggy!” The soldier with a scar and two others ran up to meet them.

“Take him and put him somewhere safe.” Ignis commanded falling back into full business mode. Two of the men immediately put their hands on Prompto and steered him towards a room. “And the perimeter is lax I was able to get this far with no issue.” he heard Ignis shout behind him.    
  
The room they took him to was someones very nice apartment. Kitchen and living room connected in a nice lofty space with big windows that occasionally flashed as Prompto assumed search lights were scouring for the intruders. And there were kings guards everywhere strategizing over a kitchen island and posted at every door. Someone sat him in a chair against a wall and out of the way, and that was that. Everyone looked tense and on alert, communicating in quick bursts of code that didn’t mean anything to Prompto. He abstractly wondered if the prince and king were okay, and if Ignis was going back out to fight. 

And suddenly he was tired. His eyes stinging and protesting as he nodded off where he sat.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, I'm really happy! This is my first fic in a long time and I hope you enjoyed reading it. If this premise piques your interest in anyway I would love to hear from you in a comment. I know I roughed up Prompto in this first chapter quite a bit, but the cute slow burn is on the horizon I swear! I hope you return to read the next chapter. Thank you!


End file.
